


Busted

by Deifire



Series: Eerie Advent Calendar Challenge [6]
Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: Future Fic, Improper Investigative Procedures, M/M, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deifire/pseuds/Deifire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“That’s all you were doing? And not, say, anything mega-illicit which you promised you wouldn’t do, or else an intervention might have to be called?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Eerie Advent Calendar fic challenge.
> 
> Prompt: Addicted.

“What are you doing?!”

Dash drops the box in his hands as he suddenly finds himself grabbed by both wrists, spun around, and slammed roughly up against the kitchen wall.

“I was cleaning the kitchen, Teller,” he lies smoothly to his assailant’s face. “Isn’t that what you’re always nagging me to do?”

“Oh, really?” says Marshall. “That’s all you were doing? And not, say, anything mega-illicit which you promised you wouldn’t do, or else an intervention might have to be called?”

“Nope, just cleaning and nothing remotely of the sort,” says Dash. He tries to squirm away, but Marshall’s grip only intensifies as Marshall steps closer.

“Item,” says Marshall. “One empty green box now on the kitchen floor.”

“I was just throwing that away,” Dash protests.

“Item,” and here Marshall stops and kisses Dash hard. Dash knows he should resist, but he finds himself giving in almost immediately, which is a huge mistake, because…

“Item,” Marshall repeats, as he breaks it off moments later. “Suspect tastes distinctly of the combination of mint and chocolate.”

“There’s a perfectly good explanation for—“ Dash begins, but Marshall only adjusts his grip until he’s got both of Dash’s wrists pinned above his head with one hand, while his other rummages through Dash’s coat pocket until it grabs the object Dash could have sworn he’d been quick enough to stash there unnoticed.

“Item,” Marshall says, as he holds up the plastic sleeve, “a sleeve containing the last,” here Marshall does a quick count, “six Thin Mint cookies in the entire apartment. You’re busted, X.”

Dash sags against the wall where Marshall’s still got him pinned. 

“We’ve talked about this,” says Marshall. “Seven boxes I bought have disappeared in less than two days, and Simon and I have barely had any. You want any more cookies, you’re going to have to get them from the Eerie Girl Scouts yourself.”

“But they’re expensive. And Girl Scouts are weird,” Dash complains.

“Yeah, well, so is everything else in this town. Either get over or start feeding your own addiction. In the meantime, I’m going to go enjoy these with Simon.” Here, Marshall releases Dash, and walks away.

“But—“

“Come find me when and only when you’re willing to admit you have a problem,” Marshall calls over his shoulder, as Simon’s door shuts behind him.

Dash swears and sinks to the floor.


End file.
